Anne Leigh Parrish Writer

originally published in Feminine Collective


What if my dystopia is your heaven, my utopia your hell?

We’re not on the same page, darling

May I still call you that?

You said it could never happen here

Isn’t that what the Germans said of Hitler?

Where did they think his anti-Semitic rants would lead?

Darling, I know in your heart the idea has some appeal

Men hate it when women say no

The President is accused of rape, and his party says, So what?

Why wield the hammer, why wield at all?

Just lie on the warm grass with me, revel in the sun

As you drive me into the soft earth I watch the trees speak

A language of dance and sway—gently now, but they too can rage when pushed

You’re pushing me

I’d like you to stop

Darling, I say

Can you hear me?

Or have you reduced me to silence?